Overcome
by DJValkyrie
Summary: Fleurmione One-shot. The Battle of Hogwarts happened three years ago, but the memories still haunt those who fought. TW: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder


**A/N:** Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder can occur when soldiers return for war. I can imagine that some of the people who survived the Battle of Hogwarts would suffer from it. It's not pleasant.

Inspired by 'Overcome' by Within Temptation.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, all rights go to the respectful owners.

* * *

It had been three years since the battle of Hogwarts. Most survivors took it upon themselves to set the wizarding world back on its feet, others fled from the traumatic experience. All those who were apart of it still had those images fresh in their minds; the blinding spells, the death eaters out to kill, and the bodies of those who had fallen surrounded the battlefield.

Sometimes, the memories were too much. Even for the strongest.

Three years on, the Frenchwoman stood at the sink to Shell Cottage, frozen in time as the series of events replayed in her mind. It was like a film, something that muggles would use to occupy themselves. The flashing spells of red and green made her eyes glaze over. The woman dropped the mug from her left hand, and didn't watch it bounce off the corner of the sink and smash to the floor. Tiny pieces of glass littered the ground as Fleur caught herself from collapsing over the sink by grasping the edge with her pale, delicate hands.

Those hands wield a ferocious wand, that can cast many a spell against the Death Eaters. Combined with her Veela blood under control, Fleur was quite the warrior. However, when she saw Fenrir Greyback pin down the brightest witch of the century, everything changed.

It was as if the vision of Bill dying at Greyback's claws had played through her during the war. Hermione was being pinned to the floor by the same evil being that killed the Weasley earlier in her life. Fleur would be damned if that monster took Hermione from her.  
With a blood curdling scream, Fleur's eyes flashed an ice blue as her pupils turned into vertical slits. The woman threw her arms out, and blue feathers shot out of her arms and ripped the fabric. Her nails turned into talons as feathers formed on her face above her eyebrows. The Veela lunged forward and threw the werewolf off Hermione.

Greyback lunged at Fleur, and the two were both set on killing the other. Hermione could only shield herself as the battle between them raged. Blood scattered across the fur and feathers. Lacerations were formed and spells were cast to destroy the other. A primal darkness overcame Fleur to protect her mate. That mutt will pay.

Fleur gasped as she choked on the memory. Her face was dripping in sweat, and droplets trickled down her nose and into the sink. Closing her cobalt optics, she grit her teeth and tried her hardest to get the memory out of her mind. Hands shaking and knees quivering, the woman started to mummer in French. Fleur's breathing became faster and more shallow, she struggled for respiration as her knuckles turned white from gripping the edge. Sweat beaded her neck as the head shaking grew more vigorous. It was becoming too much, the spells, the evil magic, the fallen wizards, whom most of were students-

"Fleur!" A gasp sounded from behind the traumatised Veela. Hermione had entered the kitchen, dressed in her sleepwear and her hair more bushy than usual. Her watch read 3.56am, and it was through the light of her wand that she saw her lover wheezing over the sink. With another gasp of shock, Hermione quickened her steps towards Fleur, and gently put and arm around her waist. With her other hand, the English witch rubbed Fleur's right shoulder, soothing her in a soft voice.

"Fleur, It's Hermione. There's no more war, no more spells, no more death. Fenrir is not here anymore. Everything is okay, please open your eyes."

A grimace formed on the blonde's lips as Hermione leaned in closer, desperate to help Fleur get out of her head. Hermione knew that Fleur was still struggling with the battle of Hogwarts, especially after unleashing her Veela form and ending the lives of many death eaters. With a sigh, Hermione lifted her wand and whispered 'Legilimens,' and swooped into the mind of her lover.

As predicted, it was the battle of Hogwarts that Fleur was remembering. Hermione observed herself, underneath Greyback as the werewolf breathed down on her, and Fleur launched herself at the wolf. There was loud screeching and growling as the two clashed and clawed at each other. Fleur's wand was casting many spells as Greyback aimed for her throat. Hermione watched herself, stunned by how the past version of her was still on the ground, grasping for her own wand to help.

Casting her gaze around, she saw the present day Fleur cowering in the corner of the room, also watching herself fight Greyback. The Veela was screeching and slashing away at the large wolf, intent of killing the beast for touching her mate. The present day Hermione let out another sigh and spoke very clearly and slowly;

"Fleur, the battle is over. Greyback is dead, and I am safe because of you. The spells aren't flying, the castle isn't here and Voldemort is dead. Please, open your eyes."

"'Ermione?" The present day Fleur whimpered, looking up at the English witch with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Hermione smiled and extended her hand.

"Fleur, you won. You destroyed Greyback completely, and saved me. For that, I am so thankful, but this happened three years ago. It's just a memory. Please, open your eyes and look at me."

Hermione felt a rush as she was pulled out of the French woman's mind. She regained her breathing as she looked at the Fleur standing in their kitchen, bent over the sink and panting heavily.

"Fleur, darling," Hermione lowered her voice even further, and reached out to move a lock of blonde hair behind the woman's ear. The older witch shook with fear, but her eyes did flutter open. They were red, and glistening with tears. Fleur looked over at Hermione, and her lip quivered again.

"'Ermione…"

"It's me, Fleur," Hermione reassured her, gently rubbing circles into her back.

Fleur's lower lip lost control and the Veela threw herself into the other witch's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Hermione took her time to calm her down, and to reassure her that everything was okay: no more darkness, no more death, no more flashing spells. She reminded Fleur of where she was, what had happened and how much she loved her. Hermione would sometimes remember the horror of that battle, and the blonde would comfort her in the same way.

"It…it is really over?" Fleur whimpered into the crook of Hermione's neck. The brunette hummed and held the other woman close.

"Yes, my love. It's over," Hermione murmured into her ear. Fleur eventually calmed down, taking long, shaking breaths as she leaned into Hermione.

The English witch gently coaxed her into coming back to bed, and the French woman nodded in agreement. They went, hand in hand, back to their bedroom, and lay down on the mattress. Hermione opened her arms for Fleur, who didn't need a second motion. The Veela cuddled up to her, nuzzling her face into the brunette's neck again.

"I figured you'd be more comfortable here than standing in the Kitchen, Fleur," Hermione grinned as Fleur nodded.

"Are you feeling a little bit better?"

Another nod.

Hermione tightened her grip on her lover, reassuring her that she was in a safe environment. They sat there for some time, Hermione moving her hands through the blonde locks and murmuring words of affection and encouragement. Fleur's singlet top resulted in her arms being rather cold, so Hermione pulled the blankets up around them, making a cocoon of warmth and protection for her Veela. Fleur's eyes opened again, and slowly looked up at the woman whom she loved. A tiny smile spread over her as she leaned up to kiss Hermione lightly on the lips. She was so blessed to have Hermione in her life, and she blessed the gods for having the most amazing soulmate. Hermione was the greatest thing to every happen to her, and there were times where she thought that Hermione didn't deserve her.

"I am sorry, 'Ermione. I…I cannot be rid ze past," Fleur whispered, fresh tears brewing. Hermione leaned in to press a soft kiss against the blonde's forehead.

"There's no need to apologise."

"Sometimes, I have nightmares about it…" Fleur looked away as her fingers tightened around Hermione's shoulder blades.

Hermione stroked the blonde hair again, she knew all about the nightmares, too. How Fleur would scream in the dead of night, and thrash about as she relived the trepidation of 1998. Hermione, despite being more involved with the battle, had not suffered as badly as Fleur had. Yet, there were occasions of those memories coming back to haunt her. Fleur, despite being older, was subjective to her memories far more than her younger lover.

"Sometimes, there are days where I wish to end the memories…"

Hermione leaned down against and brushed her lips gently against Fleur's. In the beginning, Fleur had begged to have the memories removed, but it would cause more psychiatric problems if they were gone- she would become empty. Hermione and Fleur had gone through so much therapy from that experience, and the toll it took on them had tightened the bond they shared. Hermione pulled back and cupped the blonde's cheek, a small smiled forming on her lips.

"I know, love. I have them too. But we learned so much about ourselves from that, we grew as witches and lovers. You protected me by unleashing your Veela on a werewolf, and destroyed him. You fought off so many death eaters to keep me alive. Fleur, you are the most loyal and loving companion I could ever have, and I am so proud of you for everything you have done," Hermione never once let her gaze falter as she became entranced by the cobalt galaxies of Fleur's eyes. Fleur leaned forward to kiss the English witch again, and embraced her tightly. She was blessed to have such a woman in her life.

"Merci, 'Ermione…Je t'aime," Fleur whispered, closing her eyes and letting herself get lost in Hermione's warm, loving embrace.


End file.
